Dear Dirty Street Emos,
I'm glad that making shallow comments about strangers as they walk by entertains you. Good for you, deflecting your anger over the fact that you had an entirely ordinary middle class upbringing onto something that makes you happy. I hope you find it fulfilling.
But know this: You don't know a damn thing about any of the people walking by. You don't know anything about anything, really, and one day, in two years or five or ten, you'll realize what a douche you are, and you'll be so embarassed you'll have to change your whole look and become someone else, because right now, you're stupid and shallow and mean, and so are all your so-called friends. As soon as you wake up, they'll turn on you. Don't deny it; you know that truth somewhere deep inside you.
So go take a damn shower and shut your mouth. Suck it up and do something useful. Or at least leave this place alone.
Love and spikes,
Me
2 comments:
seriously. can we put all the dirty street emos on an island until they grown into post-adolescent faux-intellectuals?
i mean, i prefer them with their scruffy second year college beards and their indie pin lapels. they are a lot less blatant about being a douche.
I. Know. Right.
We used to get all the street hippies, who mostly just smelled like pot and slept and ate. Then we got that wave of street punks, who were annoying but not mean, generally. Now there's these horrible little monster-kids who think fifteen is something special.
I really hope I wasn't so horrible when I was fifteen.
~:)
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